


Whispers

by SonYamuri



Category: Blizzard - Fandom, FairShaw - Fandom, World of Warcraft
Genre: FAIRSHAW BOOK, Fights, Freeform, Had to do this, LET'S GET CORRUPTED, M/M, N'zoth - Freeform, New Patch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonYamuri/pseuds/SonYamuri
Summary: After all, what is real, if our perceptions cannot be trusted?
Relationships: Flynn Fairwind/Mathias Shaw
Kudos: 29





	Whispers

**Author's Note:**

> Been thinking on writing something like this since back in December, even more after knowing that one of the Visions involves Shaw.
> 
> BUT AFTER THE NOTICE OF THE NEW FUCKING FAIRSHAW BOOK THIS PRACTICALLY WROTE ITSELF. SO HERE IT IS I'M SORRY IF IT IS BAD I HAD TO DO IT.

_ He’ll manipulate emotions, get people to act in ways contrary to their nature. You won’t be able to trust your senses, your memories, your friends. _

Mathias had been there when Wrathion presented himself before King Anduin as Magni’s advisor. He heard his warning.

But there was absolutely no way that this was an illusion.

Or would it?

It hurt like  _ shit _ .

The spy dropped against a wall in a dark alley. The screams, the shoots and explosions sounded far away, but that was impossible. Five seconds ago a huge piece of glass coming from a house, destroyed by an azerite bomb, flew and cut through his side.

Badly.

He was panthing and holding the right side of his abdomen, where the blood dripped generously. He wasn’t an idiot, he knew that even if he used life potions he wouldn’t make it. Not even if went with a healer.

Supposing that he could find any that wasn’t corrupted or killed yet. 

Dragging a deep breath, he bit his lower lip and stood up. The wound was making him sloppy, the blood lost as well, but he had a job to do. From one of his several pockets he dragged a flask filled with red liquid, drank it whole and threw the vial aside: that would give him one more hour, give or take.

And y, of course the first thing he tried was to get healing stuff, like bandages or more healing potions (by that time they weren’t for him, but for the other survivors) but of course, he noticed as soon he reached the hospital and the enfermary, those were the first things they burned with Azerite fire. 

Okay then- a spy’s work was never done. But this time, on his last job, he had to finish.

When he felt well enough to walk without limping, he scurried by what was now the ruins of the Tradewind Market. That bastard surely was hiding in Proudmoore Keep, which made sense since it was one of the most fortified places of...

No, of course not.

He wouldn’t hide inside a keep. he would be in front of the battle. In first line. 

So he walked deeper into the market and to the docks. On his way he recognized several citizens -people that he personally dealt with, good people. But it was not time to mourn right now. Not that he would actually have the chance to do so anytime soon. 

He reached the entrance that would give way stairs down, to Cyru’s office. As wards there were only two disgusting, orange eyes, which he dispatched easily and walked down immediately. Cyrus’ corpse was still sitting on the table, mosket and cutlass in each hand. Though he felt sorry, he felt proud as well at the sight of the fifteen Tidesage’s corpses scattered around the place. They had needed twenty of them, using both spells and weapons, to bring him down. 

He did not know nothing of Taelia yet, but he hoped that she and the Proudmoore were well.

When he exited to the docks, saw the still burning remains of what once was the Wind’s Redemption. He didn’t see Keeshan or Kelsey’s corpses, so he supposed that they were able to flee with Shandris and Fandral. What he did see though, was the corpse of Jes-Tereth, traversed by a cannonball. Poor one. So young. But this was war, and you cannot change the winds, as Flynn would say. 

Right in front of the ship, the corpses of both Tess and Genn Greymane laid, ravaged by something unknown, but still recognisable. They, just like Halford, gave their lives to buy Shaw as much time they could, so he could take as many survivors he was able out of Boralus. 

But he should have stayed. 

He should have. 

He should have.

“ _ Are you nuts?” _ he heard Flynn’s voice echoing in his head. “ _ We have everything under control here, you have to get them out” _

Shaw had tried to refuse, but then Halford interfered and said that he would stay with Fairwind, the Greymane father and daughter, and some Champions to give him some time.

“ _ Some years ago, my friend Darius, his men and a Champion stayed behind so my people, my family and I could flee out of the danger of the wild Worgens, sacrificing himself and his people. It is time for me to pay that debt, so he can mourn his daughter, as I couldn’t mourn my son back then”  _ that was what Genn said before leaving. The last thing he saw of the Greymane was Genn hugging Tess before getting ready for the attack. 

When he was about to leave, Halford stopped him for a couple of seconds.

“ _ Shaw, no matter what happens, I have to tell you this: you chose well”. _

At Mathias’s confused face, Halford looked at his left: Flynn was fighting fiercely against three Tidesages, dispatching easily one after one, allowing some civils to run away.

“ _ He’s a brave one”.  _ Was the last thing he said before turning around and return to the ship. And that was the last time Mathias knew about him. 

He wanted to say goodbye to Flynn, but no, he thought to himself, he would return after securing the people, and would fight beside him. But then he left, he took as many civils he could to a safe place so they could run, and when he returned-

Well, everything was a mess already.

And, yes, just as he suspected: by the end of the docks there was a ship that looked as if it was made of nightmares. The wood was rotten and surrounded by shells and mollusks, that somehow they seemed to be the only thing holding the wood and the whole ship together. Moss and seaweed were growing around the ship, and the sails, deployed and fabric clearly rotten, waved with the stormy wind, spreading a foul smell, like a mix of dampness, stagnant water and death. This monstrosity had fifteen cannons at both sides: one side was shooting azerite cannonballs aimed to Boralus, and the other side destroying the navy both Kultirian and Zandalari. 

Ah, the Horde agreed to help them, yes, but they agreed too late, way too late, and now both sides were being ravaged both by the cannons and the huge kraken in the deeps. Surely Boralus would fall, and once they did, Zandalar would follow, and so, the rest of the Kingdoms. 

Hidden by the shadows, Mathias managed to catch sight of the captain of that ship walking by the prow: Flynn’s coat seemed to be plagued by tiny crawl bugs and shells, two tentacles wagged in each shoulder, his skin was white and his eyes white and sunken. Had he not know better, surely mathias would have believed that Flynn died drowned and someone resurrected him and sent him to walk around the ship. But no, of course no. This was what N’zoth’s corruption could do to a fair man like Fairwind was. There was only one way to help Flynn, and by the Light, he would do it.

Mathias narrowed his eyes as he examinated Flynn accesories, searching for something that could have corrupted him. It could be anything: a ring, a earring, necklace...

Wait, necklace... and yes, there it was: that damned shell necklace that he always did wear, was now glowing with a sickening purple color. So that was.  He had to take that necklace away, kill him, and then destroy the shell.

All that in less of the 40 minutes, give it or take it, that he had of life. 

He slithered carefully to the ship. There were some Tidesages, with their octopuses faces, warding the stairs that led to the ship. It was so easy to create a distraction so he could sneak in: he threw a sphere of sacred light (of the last ones he had) and they ran to kill or corrupt the origin of it.

“ _ Come on, Fairwind”  _ he thought to himself and he enveloped himself again in the veil of shadows and walked up the ship. “ _ I know you are more selective with your crew”. _

However, as soon he set a feet on the prow, he had Fairwind’s cutlass over his neck.

“Hey Shaw” his voice, so familiar and at the same time so different, empty and hollow, gave him shudders that he did not show. “I’ve been waiting for you. You’re late. It seems that by each minute you get older and slower”.

Mathias said nothing at that, just narrowed his eyes. Flynn’s grin grew wider and though he sheathed his cutlass, two Tidesages came behind him and held his arms. He tried to ignore the awful smell of black waters and pipes.

“So, what do you think?” Flynn extended both arms to cover the whole scenery in front of them: Boralus crumbling down and burning. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Soon the rest of Kul Tiras will follow, but had to start with the big town before going for the smaller ones. It’s quicker this way”.

“What do you want from me” growled Mathias, looking at the floor.

“Oi mate, don’t talk to me as if we were two strangers that barely shared some pints in a wild night” Flynn got closer to Mathias: his teeth seemed yellower than the usual. And those were black spots? “You hurt me. But yes, you’re right, there is something I want from you”. 

He unsheathed his cutlass again and pushed the tip against Mathias’s chest. He didn’t move.    
  


“Easy. I just want you”.

Something pained at the back of his ribs with those words, but no, this was not Flynn, this was not his friend. 

“Just imagine!” Flynn grinned. “You and me, the most feared of the Kingdom of the Dark Lord, sailing everywhere. Who said that the ocean has limits? No, no Shaw. We could go  _ down _ , you know? We could go  _ down to the deep _ , to the deepest side of Azeroth, so many things waiting to be discovered, to be seen, to be heard, waiting to awake-”

“Fairwind!” Mathias growled again, feeling agitated. Scared. But not of Flynn: he was scared because the idea was appealing. “Pull yourself together. Deep down there’s only cold and darkness. Did you hear yourself? You talk like a madman. You have to wake up!”

“Oh, but my dear Shaw, I already woke up”. Flynn got so close to Mathias that their faces almost touched, even shared air and breath. “You have a very closed mind to be the best spy in Azeroth. There are wonders in the dark. Treasures beyond your imagination.  _ I know _ .  _ He _ showed me. He said that they are there for me to take, and I want to share them with you, if only you were brave enough to simply accept the reality…”

Shaw’s mind felt like damp cotton. What was real? The idea of travel with Flynn beyond the ocean’s limits had always been appealing, but now it was tempting. Actually, before all this mess, he had thought about it. He considered inviting Flynn to help him investigate some artifacts, because a spy like him could always use the help of someone who could detect at single sight if something was gold or not, that has experience navigating, dealing with different people, experience surviving against overwhelming odds and, overall, has his complete trust. 

Exploring Azeroth. Together.

Somehow… somehow they still could. He could hear the whispers: they could still navigate, bring destruction, they could bring the kingdom of shadows and it would be theirs for the taking-

He yelled.

From a device hidden in his gloves, he activated acid smoke and some baubles that exploded immediately, stunning the Tidesages holding him. Mathias quickly punched them and turned to Flynn, who was looking at him, confused. He got closer to him and teared the shell necklace, throwing it aside.   
  


“Shaw!”

He didn’t listen. Instead, grabbed Flynn by the collar of his coat and launched him against the mast. Two Tidesages charged against him again but he dispatched them using his elbows and knees. Too easy. He made sure to keep them away dropping baubles with acid smoke and then turned again to Flynn, holding his dagger by his neck and-

“MATHIAS!”   
  


He blinked.

  
  
The Flynn in front of him was not the almost-corpse he just saw, but… Flynn. Dark skin, copperish hair, green eyes staring at him with terror and confusion.   


  
He quickly looked around: four soldiers using the 7th Legion colors were trying to get up, coughing due to the smoke he just dropped. Halford was halfway the prow, obviously intending to charge against him but now he was freezed and with his hand in his sword’s shaft, Shandris and Keeshan just behind him, weapons at hand. Actually Shandris was with her bow ready to shoot.   


  
Somewhat agitated Mathias dropped his daggers and retreated, giving Flynn some space. Boralus was well, with the usual morning commotion as always. Cyrus and Taelia were outside Cyrus’s office looking around, obviously attracted by the commotion of the ship.    


  
He looked down: Flynn’s necklace, innocent and empty, was still on the place where he had thrown it. When two hands held his arms, he startled, maybe more than it was worth it. Flynn had gotten close, and though he startled as well, didn’t release his hold in Mathias’s arms. They stared each other until the mercenary spoke.   


  
“Shaw” said carefully. “By all the tides, what the hell is going on with you?”   
  


Mathias opened his mouth, just to close it again.    
  


_ After all, what is real, if you cannot trust your own perceptions? _   
  


Wrathion had said it. 

“I’m sorry” he mumbled. “I- I am sorry”.   
  


Bowing his head as an apology to Halford, Shandris, Keeshan and the four soldiers that tried to stop him, he walked away quickly and down into the Hall of the Portals: Magni needed to know it. He had to travel to the Chamber of the Heart, had to warn him that it already started, and not only in the Eastern Kingdoms-   


  
He almost jumped when he noticed Flynn walking right beside him (actually he already had his throwing daggers at hand).

  
  
“Fairwind” he warned. “Don’t-”   
  


“You almost slice my throat, and now I’m Fairwind?” said Flynn raising a brow. “I’ll go with ya, mate, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me”.    
  


“I can notice” said Mathias sourly. “Not even after I almost killed you”.   
  


Flynn shrugged. “Whatever. Not the first time, and it won’t be the last. Point is, we already know what whatever that, one eyed-big-hentai-over-growed octopus is doing, is affecting you as well. You need someone with sharp mind who can keep himself sober enough while you get… drunk with.... whatever they do”.   


  
“You have automatically kicked yourself out of the mission”.   


  
Flynn’s face was such that Mathias couldn’t help but chuckle. Flynn’s coolness, his familiarity, something in him calmed Shaw down. Enough to make him stop before reaching the Hall and allow that chuckle to transform into a full and whole laugh. People around them were looking at him weird, and Flynn’s mouth was a perfect “O” and Mathias just laughed harder. Maybe at some point his laugh became desperate, because Flynn held his shoulder firmly, in an almost painful way, but it was enough to bring him back.    


  
Shaw cleared his throat and Flynn, mercifully, didn’t say a word about it. Silently, he thanked him for that.

“So! Where we goin’?” said Flynn cheerfully.

“You have never been in Silithus, isn’t?”

“Nope, never. But I’ve heard that there is a huge fucking sword in middle of it that can be seen in anywhere of the Eastern Kingdoms and Kalimdor. Is that true? It would be interesting to see it”.

Mathias couldn’t help but smile.

“Then you shall see it. Come on”.

As they were taking the portal to Silithus, Shaw remembered his original idea, the one he had when he made the decision to travel and look for any artifact that could be used in defense of the Alliance. Yeah, he could tell him. It could be possible.

They just needed to have all this stuff of the Old Gods under control and then-

_ Just remember, happiness is a fleeting thing _ , Valeera had said.  _ Find it while you can, Shaw _ .

Perhaps he would take her advice. 

**Author's Note:**

> FAIRSHAW BOOK. FAIRSHAW BOOK.


End file.
